


Are we in the clear yet?

by Pinkerton



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkerton/pseuds/Pinkerton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone comes back to the Haus for a weekend the summer after Shitty and Jack graduate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are we in the clear yet?

The Haus has been quiet for almost two months following graduation. Eric has a summer internship with the local green market’s administrative team, and spends his time cooking fresh vegetables into experimental recipes for Ransom and Holster, who are proving to be enthusiastic but unreliable food critics. Ransom is taking a special summer section class, and Holster scored a research gig for one of his professors. They fall into a routine of sharing nightly meals, watching horrible reality tv, and not talking about how empty it feels with just the three of them there.

But then Jack flies back to town to be the guest of honor at the local pee wee hockey summer camp banquet, dropping his bags in his old room. Shitty and Lardo appear without announcement hours after Jack, and Dex and Nursey arrive the next day in the most beat up Honda Civic anyone has ever seen. Shortly behind them in an Uber from the airport is Chowder, who tells everyone he got a a great deal on a red-eye flight and he’s only been up 26 hours. He immediately falls asleep on Eric’s floor.

The Haus is full and messy, with half open suitcases spilling clothes everywhere and haphazard sleeping arrangements. There is a lull in the chaos for family dinner on Saturday night. Holster and Dex take turns grilling chicken and burgers in the front yard, and everyone passes around wine and Eric’s prototype vegetable tarts. The girls in a neighboring house stop by, and they invite friends, who invite friends, and soon an epic party is underway. Things don’t slow down till 2 or 3 am, when a chair is thrown from the roof and Shitty and Jack decide that’s it and kick everyone out. 

\--

The next morning, the sun is filtering into the living room, shining unforgivingly on the green couch, which has a tattered sheet draped over most of it for the traditional Sunday hangover tv festival. TBS has been playing since 10 am, when the first casualties of last night’s beer pong tourney start rolling downstairs—Shitty lugs in a cooler of light beers and Gatorade and wedges himself between Ransom and Holster, but only after they swear that the pillows they brought down from their rooms would pass a black light test. Lardo, wearing sunglasses, scores the beat up recliner, and Jack, who even with his most strident captain’s voice couldn’t get anyone to join him on his eight a.m. jog, eventually returns, showers, and sits on the floor, leaning against Shitty’s legs.

The sit for a while in silence, watching tv, till Shitty finishes his first Gatorade and turns to Ransom to ask, “What happened in the end, with the kid and the thing?” Ransom groans and shuffles around in his blanket cocoon, eventually pulling a twenty out of his back pocket and passing it over to Shitty. “One day you’ll learn the Haus always wins,” Shitty says. Ransom throws his pillow at Shitty as Lardo turns her head toward the couch. “You don’t wanna know,” Ransom mumbles.

Lardo shakes her head. “I’m sure you’re right, Rans. By the way, where did Bitty end up? I lost him around midnight.”

“Probably in his room,” Jack says.

“I’m right here,” comes a voice from the doorway, “and I’m guessing brunch is…not happening?” A chorus of voices groan together, though Jack perks up a bit. Eric rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll make muffins instead. And maybe a pitcher of bloody Marys.” 

“The muffins with the crunchy tops?” Jack asks.

“Of course. Come help me while everyone hydrates.”

Jack smiles and heads to the kitchen. 

\--

Bitty makes not only coffee cake muffins, but cheddar scallion scones, a carafe of strong coffee, and a giant pitcher of Bloody Marys, heavy on the horseradish. Chowder rolls down in time to eat three scones. 

Between eating and halfhearted arguments about the ethics of cheating at drinking games, someone finally notices that Dirty Dancing is on the tv. 

“My favorite feminist fairytale,” Shitty says. “Oooh, lake scene lift practice.”

Bitty finishes his sip of coffee. “Lifts aren’t that hard. I don’t know why the movie makes them out to be.”

“Looks hard,” Ransom mumbles around a mouthful of scone, as Baby and Johnny tumble backwards into the water yet again. “In fact, lifts being hard is kind of the crux of the film.”

“The crux of the film,” Shitty says, “is that no one puts Baby in the corner.”

Eric shrugs. “Figure skaters do lifts all the time while skating backwards and spinning, and so long as you….What? Why are y’all looking at me like that?” 

“So…you know how to do that?” Chowder asks. 

“Well, I never pair skated myself before I switched to hockey--”

“But you know the basics?” Chowder asks, glancing back to the screen, where Baby is nervously putting on her borrowed dance costume.

“Of course, “ Eric replies, shifting to look around the room. They’re all looking at him intently.

“There’s that lake about a half hour from here—“

“More like 40 minutes if we—“

“Think you can lift me?”

“You bet your ass.”

“You bet Zimmermann’s ass.”

“Hey!”

“Do it for the Vine, Shitty.”

There’s some shuffling as the comments fly around, and things start to get noisy before Lardo interrupts. “Guys, I think I’m going to abuse my power—“

“Your awesome power.”

“Thanks, Shits, yes, my awesome power and requisition the team van for the afternoon. Someone find Dex and Nursey.”

Dex and Nursey are found at the neighbor girls’ house, and the team declines Nursey’s request to not mention the hickey on his neck.

\--

The ride to the lake takes forty minutes, with a slight hiccup when Holster suggests they pick up some fried chicken from KFC for a picnic. Bitty’s tirade about the proper way to brine, bread, and fry a bird is thorough and full of gestures, and eventually winds down as the cashier is handing over bags of chicken and slaw and biscuits. “Aw, Bittle, we’ll have a proper fried chicken dinner next time I’m in town, eh?” Jack says, reaching his arm behind Eric to ruffle his hair. Bitty huffs and slumps down against him, muttering about Old Bay being a lazy shortcut.

His spirits rise as Lardo turns off onto a dirt road, and soon the lake is in view. A few knots of students linger around the water’s edge closest to the grilling area, but there’s some good stretches left empty. They spread out their towels and coolers, chuck their shirts, and run, whooping, into the water. 

Lifts, it turns out, are really hard. Bitty stays on the shore to coach and snap photos, his phone full of shots of flailing limbs and churning water. He threatens to tweet the one of Shitty almost lifting Jack, and Jack is nice enough to let Bitty put his cameral away before unceremoniously hauling him into the lake and dunking him in retaliation. Holster manages to lift Ransom for a full, glorious minute before Ransom tips too far forward and they tumble into the water. The afternoon stretches on, and eventually even Chowder is willing to admit defeat and head back to the Haus. There’s smores around the grill, and Eric makes frozen hot chocolate before everyone finds a place to crash for the night. 

\--

Eric wakes to a hand pressed on his chest, and a finger held to his lips. “Shhh, just get dressed and meet me downstairs in 10 minutes,” Jack says. Eric lifts his head enough to see Jack step over a sleeping Chowder before slipping out of the room. 

Nine minutes later, Erik is more or less dressed, rubbing the sleep out of the corners of his eyes. He walks in socked feet down stairs and out to the porch, bending to slip on sneakers. He notices his socks don’t match at the same moment Jack comes out of the door behind him. “Where—“ Eric starts to ask, but Jack just shakes his head and sets off down the stairs to the sidewalk, looking back over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow. Eric follows.

The school aquatic center has terrible security, really. It’s short work to find an open window low enough to shimmy through. Jack’s ass gets him stuck briefly, and Eric laughs so hard he almost can’t help to pull him through. Jack leads them to the pool, and strips to his boxer-briefs before jumping in. Eric dives neatly into the dark wake Jack creates. Eric floats on his back as Jack treads water, looking up through the skylights. He hears more than sees Jack heading toward the shallower end, and rolls over to follow in lazy strokes. Jack stands when the water is chest deep, and Eric stops a few feet away. 

“Didn’t get enough swim time in the lake today?” Eric asks.

“Couldn’t do this in the lake,” Jack says, quickly moving to Eric and putting his hands on his waist. Eric nods, and Jack says “One, two, three!” as they both bend their knees. Eric surges up, Jack lifts, and they falter for half a second before Eric steadies himself, and they both laugh. “Wow,” Jack says looking up, “Did you gain weight? Have you actually been eating protein?” Eric tries not to laugh but shakes enough that the movement makes him wobble, and Jack curses in French before they both tip over. They’re laughing when they stand up, Jack shaking water out of his ears. 

Eric grins at him, wiping water away from his eyes. “You could have done that at the lake.”

“Ok,” Jack says. “True. But I couldn’t do this.” He reaches out and pulls Eric to him, wrapping his arms around him and bringing their lips together. Jack’s lips are warm, but the fingertips grazing Eric’s back are cool. Eric sighs and brings his hand to rest against the back of Jack’s neck. “I miss you,” Eric says, pulling back a bit to look in Jack’s eyes. “Living in the Haus without you is harder than I thought.”

Jack nuzzles his cheek against Eric’s. “I know. I miss waking up in your bed. You couldn’t have figured out how to kick Chowder out of your room?”

“Mr. Zimmermann, even your fine, fine self cannot make me throw the rules of Southern hospitality out the—oh!” Jack uses Eric’s distraction to slip a hand down to Eric’s nipple and flick his fingers against it. 

“But me blowing you in Holtz’s bed last night was fine?” Jack teases.

“Mmph” Eric allows. “More than fine. Really great, actually. Never been so happy about a nice, distracting beer pong tourney ever. Now kiss me, Jack.”

They make out till Jack starts to shiver. Eric tugs them both to the stairs and out of the water, finding folded towels by the diving boards. Eric towels off Jack slowly, lingering over first his arms, then his stomach, then dropping the towel and brushing his fingers against the skin above Jack’s damp underwear. 

“Bittle, your fingers are freezing,” Jack says, flinching.

“Well, warm me up,” Eric says. “C’mon, let’s get out of here,”

Jack groans. “The Haus is full.”

“Which is why it is so very nice that my car has a flip down back seat.”

Jack smiles, and it’s the best kind, one of the ones that really reaches his eyes. Eric can’t resist that and adds, “I will let you listen to classic rock, because I miss you. C’mon, Jack.”

They leave carrying their clothes, because it’s a college campus and two guys in their underwear walking around at 3 am is hardly going to cause a stir, and because it’s not like the clothes are going to stay on once Bittle remembers where the hell he parked his car, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the wonderfulness of CP and its fandom for inspiring me to write for the first time in years.


End file.
